


Sherlock Holmes: I'll Admit It

by RidiculouslyNoir



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RidiculouslyNoir/pseuds/RidiculouslyNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is when the smut happens. Apologies in advance o.e;</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Solve this!_

The words chased themselves around my head. Solving things is what I do. It is my job, after all, to gather all my information and catch the suspect, therefore solving the crime. This woman. This...creature! As if I could or would do anything else! Suggesting, even if it was just a mere hint! Suggesting that I, Sherlock Holmes, would just leave Watson in the state he was in! I bit my tongue as I walked away from her, forcing myself to keep my words locked inside my throat. To utter the things I desperately wanted to announce to the world...the things I wanted to say directly to Watson whilst in his room, to watch his eyes shine and his grip on my hands to tighten as I admitted my deepest feelings for him...it would mean the end of everything. Capital punishment. Even death. I could not permit myself to lead Watson to that terrible fate. No. I would keep my mouth shut. Keep my feelings contained within my own heart and never let them spill out.


	2. Chapter 2

_He'd say that it was worth the wounds._

I was rudely woken by someone slapping me, shaking me, calling my name. I'd figured it all out. I knew Blackwood's plans and I knew how to stop him. I knew the reasons why everything had happened. I'd finally managed to drift off into a somewhat uneasy sleep, but at least I was sleeping. So who was this person and why wouldn't they leave me alone?  
I opened my eyes. I blinked. My mouth dropped open. It couldn't be.  
"John?"  
He smiled at me, looking no worse than he had days before. His arm was in a sling, yes. He had burns on him, abrasions, bruises, but he was here, and he was smiling at me. In those few moments after he woke me, I completely lost myself. Whether or not I was still drugged, I do not know, but I sat up faster than he could push me back down again and wrapped my arms around him tightly. He was sat, stiff backed, not sure what to do. I didn't care. I gripped his jacket and buried my face in his chest, breathing in his smell. After several tense seconds, he lightly patted my back with his good arm. After several more, he wrapped his arm around me and held me, shushing me gently. I felt tears streaming down my cheeks but I didn't care. I didn't care that he was getting married to Mary. I didn't care he was moving to Cavendish Place to live with her. None of that mattered to me now. Watson was here, he was alive, and he was holding me.  
"Sherlock old boy...I'm alright...I'm alright..."  
I lifted my head to see him smiling at me once again. My heart melted. My stomach somersaulted. There was a jolt through my body that left me feeling slightly numb. Before I could stop myself, before I could think it through a little more and tell myself it was an idiotic, insane and outright dangerous thing to be doing, I was kissing him full on the mouth. My eyes were closed, my arms still wrapped round him, my heart hammering against my ribcage.   
I don't know how much time passed. It was most likely only a matter of seconds, but for me it felt like days. Glorious hours spent with my lips pressed against his, all caution thrown to the winds, not a single care in the world...until he pushed me away. He pushed me quite hard. More tears welled up in my eyes again. Tears of rejection, of guilt, of stupidity and embarrassment washing over me. My feelings were not returned. The only person in his world, in his heart, was Mary. Vile Mary.  
I opened my mouth to try and use the voice that was now stuck in my throat, when the door burst open and in flew Irene. I looked at her, then to Watson. His cheeks were rather pink and he couldn't keep eye contact with either of us. Could it be? He pushed me away because he heard Irene coming? Did he infact love me back?   
Heart still jumping around my chest, I explained my findings to Watson and Irene, unable to look Watson in the face for too long.   
The one thing I had always hoped for...the rest of the case was worth it, just to have the memory of that kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

_Is that the best you can do?_

The case was over. Blackwood was dead. Everything had returned to normal, save one thing. 221B Baker Street was empty and lonely. John had been gone for what seemed an eternity. Mrs Hudson had tried to assure me several times that it hadn't been much longer than a week, but the monotony of everyday made it feel like so much longer. The dear fellow had left Gladstone with me, something I had suspected would happen anyway. No doubt the future Mrs Watson would want new animals to take care of. Only the best for the future wife of the man I love, I suppose, but I still felt that bitter resentment I reserve only for the female of our species. John loved this dog, and I knew that the hound so terribly missed his old master. All I could do was to keep him from lying about and dwelling on the thought of it too much, which I do believe helped my mind to steer clear from it also.

On one particularly unpleasant morning, I found myself waking on the bare mattress of John's old bed. He hadn't needed it, obviously, favouring a new, possibly sturdier frame to support his and Mary's love making. No doubt they would want children. The very idea made me sick, but the thought of myself finding a way to have children with John wasn't overly horrific. Difficult, but not horrific.   
I had fallen asleep in just my trousers and my old threadbare dressing gown. My feet were covered by Gladstone and his drool, so I gently nudged him away and wiped my feet off. I sat up, yawned and stretched, then looked around the room. It was so empty now. So cold. Any essence of the Doctor had long since left. The room hadn't felt like it belonged to anyone, even since before he left. I sighed, then heaved myself from the comfort of the bed. I watched as my impression slowly smoothed itself out. Gladstone woke and also stretched, then awkwardly got to his feet and followed me. He landed with a heavy thud on the floor and had to compose himself. We'd spoiled that dog between us. Scraps of bacon from our breakfast, the occasional piece of meat left over from the roast of a Sunday. He was far too overweight, but we didn't care. I, especially, didn't care. As long as he could endure my experiments, I would happily let him grow to the size of the dinner table. John, on the other hand, being the good doctor that he was, wouldn't allow it. He would let him have free rein of the back garden and we often took him for walks. Long, glorious walks through the park. We would talk of little things, never of our case. It was heavenly, walking arm in arm with him.   
I slumped across to the bathroom, washed and dressed myself, then slumped downstairs to the smells of cooking bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Ah, Mrs Hudson. She knew exactly how to cheer me up again. Her head poked out from inside the kitchen. "Good morning, Mr Holmes."  
"Good morning, Mrs Hudson."  
"How would you like your eggs this morning?"  
"Whatever way you would like to cook them."  
I smiled politely at her. She nodded, returned the smile, then disappeared back into the kitchen. I checked the time on my pocket watch. 7:32 am. Perfect time. I could never understand how anyone would want to waste the morning lazing in bed. There were always so many things going on in the morning, so many things to do. John had liked to stay in bed till gone ten most days!  
I settled myself in the living room, then lifted the paper. I scanned the headlines of the first page, maybe read a few paragraphs, then turned the first page. Nothing jumped out at me. It was all usual, very routine. Nobody was requesting any special services in the classifieds. Nothing. I closed the paper and folded it again, slapping it back down on the table. Nothing. There hadn't been anything for…about a week now. I assured myself it was simply coincidence.  
Mrs Hudson came into the room, carrying my breakfast tray. I thanked her as she set it down on the table before me, then nodded before she left. Ahh, scrambled eggs. I poured myself some coffee, then lay a napkin over my knee before I started on the toast. I chewed it, staring into the empty fireplace, thinking. I wondered what John would be doing right this very moment if he happened to still be here. Probably still deep in a peaceful slumber. I chuckled to myself and gave Gladstone the last crust of my toast before I started on the bacon. I was about to return to my musings when I heard a knock at the front door. I set everything down and push myself to my feet, giving a warning look to the hound as I did so. Any opportunity and he would jump onto my chair and consume my bacon in a few bites. He knew better by now of course, but that warning look was always needed.  
I trotted out to the hallway just as Mrs Hudson opened the door. I was about to inquire who it was, when the door was opened fully.  
"Watson."  
"Morning."  
He stepped inside, removing his hat. He thanked Mrs Hudson as she closed the door behind him.  
"You're just in time for breakfast. May I tempt you with some?"  
"Breakfast would be lovely."  
She nodded, then returned to the kitchen.  
"Are you just going to stand there staring at me then, Holmes?"  
I felt a smile spread across my face and in a few strides, I'd cleared the gap between us and was embracing the Doctor. He returned the gesture, holding me tightly. He wouldn't admit it, but I knew why he was here. He missed me.  
When we broke apart we turned and settled ourselves in the living room. Instantly, John's lap was occupied by Gladstone, who kept licking at his face, ecstatic to see his Master once again. I chuckled to myself lightly.   
"So then. What can I do for you, Watson? Do you have a case that needs solving?"  
"No dear fellow. This is a social visit."  
Mrs Hudson returned with a tray for John. She set it down just across from my own, then left the room. John broke off a piece of bacon and fed it to his beloved hound.   
"A social visit? Well, I never!"  
I smiled and poured John some coffee. "What have I done to deserve this honour?"  
"I missed you, old boy. Living with Mary is lovely, but I missed you."  
I smiled more. He missed me! I had missed him also. He must have already suspected.  
"I'm glad you're here, Watson."  
"I was thinking, perhaps, you would like to go out for a walk? We haven't done so in a long time."  
"I would love to!"  
I jumped out of my seat, causing Gladstone to bark excitedly. Silly thing still things he's a pup sometimes. He wriggled himself out of Watson's grip, then jumped to the floor. John laughed.  
"I'd like to eat some first. I'm famished."  
"Very well."  
I seized another piece of toast, then sank to the floor. Gladstone instantly pawed against my ankle till I lowered my legs. He then climbed onto my lap and got settled again. I absent-mindedly stroked him as I chewed. John let out a laugh, then also began to eat. We remained like this, eating in silence for a few minutes before the silence was broken once more. John cleared his throat. I looked up at him. So did the dog.  
"I wondered how you were getting on…here…without me I mean."  
I shrugged and studied the rest of my toast.  
"Things could be a lot worse. I've pined after you almost as much as this hound has." I scratched Gladstone between his ears, then looked up at John. He nodded and drank some coffee. "What about you?"  
"What about me?"  
"How are things in Cavendish Place?"  
He chuckled. "They're fine."  
"Only fine?"  
"Holmes."  
"What? It's a simple question."  
"It is perfectly adequate in Cavendish Place."  
"But it isn't the same as Baker Street."  
"No. It isn't. But I wouldn't want to be back here."  
My stomach somersaulted. My throat went very dry and I found it slightly hard to swallow.  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
"Yes…well. It is the truth."  
Somehow I doubted that, but I daren't press the matter. Living with me, I will admit, is not an easy thing to do. I am a man of habit, a man of strange moods. I play the violin at all hours and blast holes into the walls. I carry out obscure experiments and other such things. But I cannot be worse than living with a woman, surely? They're always so dependent, wanting and needy. Oh no. I was far easier to live with than a woman…right?  
John sensed he had upset me and wrung his hands slightly.  
"That doesn't take away from the fact that I miss you. And I…I would like you to be at my wedding."  
"Oh! Well then!"  
My voice was slightly higher than it was normally, and the feeling in his stomach had not yet gone away. At least I was invited to the wedding. I wouldn't have to sit and wait for a photograph to show up as an ugly reminder of the awful day. No, I would be able to sit and watch the horrid events unfurl first hand!  
"Holmes?"  
I cleared my throat, hoping my voice returned to its usual pitch. When I spoke, it thankfully had done.  
"I would be honoured, dear boy."  
John's face lit up. Seeing that smile on his face made my heart skip a beat. I cleared my throat and got to my feet, dropping Gladstone carefully to the floor.  
"How about that walk then?"  
"Yes!"  
John stood also, taking hold of his cane and supporting himself upon it. I fetched my coat, hat and rider's crop, then took hold of John's arm as we descended the steps outside. Gladstone hurried off in front of us, his nose low. He knew to stay close and to never go off chasing the horses. He knew, just like I knew, that rules were there to be followed.  
As I walked with John, I rested my free hand on his wrist. I wanted to have as much contact with him as I could before he returned to that woman. Many outsiders would believe me to be bitter and hateful, but it was not so. I was happy for John, extremely so. It was only right that he should settle down. After all, he had a gift with the gentler sex. I just hoped that his union would not spell the end of our friendship.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is when the smut happens. Apologies in advance o.e;

_I know that you care for him as much as I do._

I remember the events leading up to, and indeed that occurred that night, with startling accuracy. It had been a while since our walk, but was now barely a week before the wedding. I was sat in front of the fire with an open book in one hand and Gladstone lying across my lap. The remains of my dinner sat on the table upon its tray. I was in a slightly low mood, which I pray will be understandable.  
I had seen John early the morning beforehand, and he was rather excited. He certainly wasn't his usual self, and he didn't even offer any witty remarks over the state of my room. He refused to sit and only sipped at his whiskey and water.  
"I'm nervous."  
"I expected as much."  
The conversation was very much like that, up until his parting words at the front door. It was a rather simple sentence, but it unknowingly changed everything.  
"I can't help but feel like I'm making a terrible mistake."  
Needless to say, words failed me. I let him leave looking thoroughly lost and confused.  
My thoughts on this particular evening in question were solely on him. Or rather, on him and the gut-wrenching thought that he was to be wed. If I were a superstitious man, I would say my thoughts had brought John to me, but it was merely a coincidence.  
Gladstone started and barked when there was a knock at the front door. Knowing Mrs Hudson was still awake, I soothed the hound by scratching between his ears. His barks dulled to low gruffs, then stopped completely. I was about to call out, to tell my landlady to inform our guest that I was unfortunately (and uncharacteristically) taking a break from solving other people's mysteries, when the living room door opened, and John stepped in. Gladstone was off my lap in an instant, hurrying over to his Master on his stubby little legs. He hadn't seemed to notice the lines on John's face, how his skin had a slight grey tinge to it, and how he still had the air of a man who didn't know what his next move should be about him.  
I closed the book as the Doctor sank to a crouch to stroke his beloved pet, and hastily stood up.  
"My dear man! Whatever is the matter?"  
He didn't respond right away. He fussed the hound till he'd had his share, then pushed himself standing once more. I was not aware of any smell of alcohol, and he looked like he'd bathed, at the very least.  
"I can't…"  
That was all he was able to say before the poor fellow burst into tears. He reached his arms out towards me like a lost child. I went to him, and brought him into a tight embrace. He clung to the back of my dressing gown and nuzzled into my neck. Then, he let out loud sobs. Sobs that shook me as well as him. Not once had I seen him so helpless and without any of his usual emotional defences. He seemed so full of regret and dread that I didn't know what to do with myself. I gently stroked the back of his neck, waiting for him to collect himself. It took him some time, and I'm grateful that Mrs Hudson hadn't walked in on us. He eventually managed to stem the flow of tears and lifted his head. He wiped his cheeks with the heels of his palms, then broke free of my arms and hugged himself.  
"Sorry old boy." he croaked, not able to look me in the eye. "I didn't know where else to go."  
"Not at all."  
I ushered him into my vacant seat, then poured him a glass of whiskey. After I handed it to him, I crouched by his feet, my hands on the chair's arm. He drank some, looking blankly into the fire, then turned to me.  
"You look tired."  
He chuckled lightly and nodded. "I am. Very. I've been doing a lot of thinking since yesterday morning."  
I said nothing. I did nothing. I simply watched him with rapt attention, silently urging him to continue.  
"I've thought about Mary, about the wedding. About me, and…about you…"  
He swallowed hard, then drank more whiskey. I kept my eyes on him, ignoring Gladstone's want for my attention. He settled down soon enough, lying on the hearth rug with his head resting on his front paws, those big, brown eyes never leaving our faces.  
"John…" my own voice was slightly croaky. "You're just having a slight case of pre-wedding nerves, that's all, dear boy."  
I tentatively put a hand over his. His eyes fell on it, and for the first time since I met him, I had absolutely no idea what was going through his mind. I don't claim to be able to see into the thoughts of others, but I figured I knew John well enough to know. His eyes and face were completely expressionless. It was a look I'd never seen on him before. It worried me slightly.  
"John?"  
"May I spend the night here? With you?"  
"Of course!"  
A smile spread across my face. Taking care of a friend where I was most accustomed to him being was a tremendous relief! I would gladly be pulled from my stupor from the very man who may have put me there in the first place.  
"Are you hungry?" I asked as I stood up. "Shall I request Mrs Hudson prepare some food for you?"  
He shook his head and groaned lightly. "No…no…I'm not hungry."  
"Very well."  
I looked down at him for a few more moments, then lowered myself again.  
"John…I…" I swallowed. I wasn't sure if now was a good idea to be admitting my feelings, so I decided to bite my tongue. "I'll ready your bed."  
He nodded, staring back into the fire again. I dashed out of the room, Gladstone at my heels. I collected fresh linen for his bed and hurried up the stairs to make it.   
I had almost finished when I was aware of a presence behind me. I turned my head and looked over my shoulder, only to find it was John. I smiled at him and he offered me a small smile in return, then continued to watch me until I stepped away from his old bed.  
"There. I've also taken the liberty to put in a hot water bottle. It may be a tad chilly in here."  
"Thank you, Holmes."  
His hands were buried in his pockets and he was looking around at the walls.  
"It's rather empty in here now, isn't it."  
"Yes. It took a lot to get used to."  
"I thought you would have asked someone else to live with you. How are you covering rent?"  
"I'm managing."  
The very idea of having someone else sleep in this room was ghastly. I couldn't picture waking up in the morning to another person I barely knew. Waking up and going downstairs without John had been something hard enough to overcome.  
"I'm also amazed you haven't moved some of your things in here."  
He walked in now, still glancing around the room. Gladstone had been sat by the door watching me, but he was now up and pacing about between the two of us, as though waiting for something to happen.  
"I have enough space in my own room."  
John chuckled at that. There were more odds and ends in my room than in a back alley junk shop.  
"But still. It's a shame to see this room going to waste."  
He was closer to me now. Very close. Some colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a lot more at ease than he had not too long beforehand. His eyes kept flitting over to the door, then back to me. This struck me as odd to begin with. Looking back on it now, I probably should have guessed, but it definitely wasn't something I would have ever expected.   
"So then…"  
"Shall I leave you to it?"  
Gladstone scampered out of the room. The two of us watched him go, then turned our attention back to each other. John took a few steps closer. Now we were face to face.  
"No…stay with me."  
I nodded, then felt my cheeks flush.  
"What are you doing?"  
John didn't reply. He'd let his fingertips travel up my arm and they were now just inching under the edge of my dressing gown. I felt them against my bare chest and swallowed. He shrugged, his eyes never leaving mine. I stammered slightly, trying to force myself to say something to stop what he was doing, but I couldn't manage complete words. His gaze dropped to his fingers as he teased my gown open. I kept my eyes on his face. He looked so focused, almost eager.  
"John."  
He didn't act like he'd heard me. His hand fell and he tugged on the cord that was holding my dressing gown closed. I somehow injected a little bit more confidence into my voice, and even took hold of his wrist.  
"John…what are you doing?"  
He looked up at me and I could see the want in his eyes. He scanned over my chest, then pulled me into a rough kiss. I didn't react. Not at first anyway. I just stood there, my eyes trying to focus on his face and not being able to do so. My hands were open, the fingers spread wide. After a good few more seconds, he pulled back. Not too far, but not close enough for our lips to be able to meet again without a little bit of effort.  
He swallowed hard and studied my face. I must've been in shock, because his voice was slightly shaky when he spoke.  
"Holmes? Are…are you alright, old boy?"  
I blinked, realising that it wasn't a dream…it wasn't a dream!  
Without saying a word, I moved a hand up to slide around the doctor's neck and brought him into the kiss again. I was on my tiptoes slightly, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He moved both of his hands under my dressing gown, pushing it out of the way more, and brought me closer to him. He pressed his fingertips into the small of my back and I kissed him harder, parting his lips with mine. A shudder went through me when I felt his tongue run across my bottom lip. Yet plucking up more courage, I invited the organ into my mouth with my own. John let out a groan and held me tighter, moving a hand over my back and taking hold of my shoulder.  
It took a lot of strength, but I pulled back. As much as I'd wanted this, it wasn't right.  
"John…please…what are you doing?"  
"What does it feel like?"  
He moved my gown from my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor. My throat had turned very dry and I put my hands on his chest.  
"You're getting…getting married, John."  
His hands froze on my forearms, looking down at my feet. A few moments passed before he looked up.  
"I'm aware of that, Sherlock. I've done a lot of thinking over the last few days and this…I need this. I have to do this…or I'll never forgive myself."  
I cleared my throat and shook my head. "You…Mary…"  
"I love you."  
I lifted my head so fast I got a crick in my neck. I stared at him, wide eyed, not daring to believe what I'd just heard. Perhaps I was dreaming after all?  
"You…"  
"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."  
"Then wh-…why…"  
"Why am I getting married?"  
I nodded.  
"Because it's the right thing to do, Holmes. We could never be together…we could deny it, of course, but that wouldn't work. Not in the long run. Someone would find out and then we'd both be finished."  
I couldn't but agree. He was completely right. Most men had even stopped walking arm in arm like it was some kind of offence. I didn't understand it at the time of course, but it soon became clear why.  
"Please, Sherlock. I've wanted this for a long time. I've wanted you for a long time."  
"Oh, John…"  
We kissed again, in the same way we were before we broke apart. His hands were on my back once more, my arms draped over his shoulders. I could have taken on the Queen's Army, scaled the buildings of Parliament, climbed the highest mountain. After this, nothing seemed impossible to me anymore.  
John started unfastening his waistcoat and shirt hastily. He moved his body away from me and kicked the door closed, then pulled me against him again. I pinned him against the now closed door and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out from his trousers. He shrugged that and his waistcoat to the floor, then wrapped his arms around me again. My fingertips found the new scars on his chest and shoulder and traced them gently. I felt him shudder and stopped, which cause him to break the kiss once more.  
"Sorry…did I hurt you?"  
"No…your touch…it's softer than I expected."  
I felt my cheeks flush again. Of all the things I'd been complimented on in my time, the softness of my hands wasn't something I'd ever expected.   
We were both panting slightly, and we rested our foreheads together. I needed a moment to compose myself anyway before I got too carried away. I'd imagined this happening so many times, and now it was actually occurring, I found I was hardly able to bring myself to touch him anywhere intimate. John cleared his throat.  
"Sherlock have you…ever done this before?"  
I shook my head slightly. "Have you?"  
He laughed and closed his eyes for a moment. "No. I've thought about it though."  
I moved my head back and stroked a hand through his hair. He smiled at me, looking very much like his old self again. He didn't look lost and frightened anymore. He looked completely at ease, comfortable, full of confidence, if a little embarrassed about something. He too had a pink tinge to his cheeks and I couldn't help but bring it up.  
"Why did you ask? Assume I already had done?"  
"Well…to be honest, I did."  
I chuckled and shook my head again, then pulled the doctor close against me. "No. I have never been with a man…you're the first I've ever thought about in this way."  
He smiled and cupped my cheek in his palm. Our lips met again. This time, he steadily moved me back towards the bed. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. My hands were trembling and I was afraid of stumbling over my own feet.   
"Easy, old boy…" John smiled at me, then tentatively took my hand. I'd just opened my mouth when he turned and climbed onto the bed, pulling me with him. We both let out a light laugh, kneeling in front of each other, our eyes travelling over the other's body. I bit my lip as his hand reached out and started on my trouser fastening. He managed to undo my trousers with relative ease. I, however, was trembling more than I have been before. He stroked a hand through my hair again, making me look up at him. He smiled at me in a reassuring way, then kissed me lightly. I felt a little bit more comfortable with my current situation, but I was still rather shocked. After all the things he'd told me, and with everything to do with Mary, I couldn't quite get my head around things. It was very much like a dream.  
"Holmes?"  
"Hmm?"  
I looked up at John. I must've had a somewhat vacant expression on my face, as he looked slightly concerned.  
"Are you alright?"  
"Yes." I replied instantly, letting my lips curve upwards into a broad smile. He returned it and stroked my cheek with his thumb. It was then that I realised that he hadn't only unfastened my trousers, but he'd also wriggled them down my hips a little bit. His fingertips were toying with my underwear and I blushed again. He didn't say a word as he slipped his hand in and started stroking me. I tensed slightly, letting out a gasp and gripping his shoulders. He kissed my cheek, just under my ear.  
"John…" I moaned out as my eyes closed. The way his fingertips were brushing over my chest, all the small kisses he planted on my neck, it all felt great. My moans steadily grew louder the faster he stroked me, until my fingernails were threatening to break into his skin and I was tensing hard. He unfastened his own trousers and took hold of my hand, then brought it to his own growing erection. I held my breath as I let my fingers wrap around him. He let out a groan as I started stroking, mimicking his motions.   
Now, I am no prude. There had been many times in the past I had pleasured myself, so I do know how to do these things. Doing it to someone else, however, felt rather strange. Good, but strange. I must have been doing it well because John's shoulders hunched forwards as he inclined his body towards mine. His eyes were closed and he was panting. My own breaths were escaping in much the same way. I kissed him again, not even waiting for permission to part his lips with my tongue. He groaned as our tongues worked against each other, and he pushed me back slowly. I settled myself against the pillows, entwining my fingers in his hair. His kisses moved from my neck and down my chest. He teased my nipples with his tongue and I arched upwards, moaning loudly. He moved between my legs and grinded his hips down. It sent shudders through the both of us and he gripped hold of the sheets.  
"Sherlock…"  
"Nnn…"  
He tugged my trousers off my hips completely, then took them off along with my underwear and socks. He casually tossed them to the floor, then removed the rest of his own clothing. A moan escaped my lips again as I looked over his body, and his cheeks flushed slightly. I couldn't help but wonder if his skin ever gained that reddish hue with Mary.  
He pressed himself down between my legs, making me moan again. The heat coming from his body was enough to make me sweat. He lifted my legs and wrapped them round his waist, then worked his hips down into mine again. There was a moment where we both tensed, letting the pleasure run its course through our bodies. We then moaned in unison. My eyes were closed, but I suspected he was watching my face as he worked his hips more. This was one of the most intense feelings I'd ever had. The more I thought about it, however, the more I realised it was probably going to hurt me. I swallowed and opened my eyes, ready to tell him my thoughts, but he must have sensed my feelings and was smiling at me. I smiled back and brought him down into a kiss again. He reached between our bodies and stroked me again, causing me to arch my back.  
"Holmes…I'll be gentle…I promise I'll try not to hurt you…"  
I nodded, watching as he spat on his fingers. I took a deep breath and gripped his shoulders as he moved his free hand between us. I felt his fingers inching tentatively towards my entrance and bit my lip. As he rubbed against me, I tensed. It felt strangely good. I breathed in deeply through my nose and looked down. He kept moving his fingertips, occasionally threatening to push into me, but not quite doing so. My toes curled and I let out a moan. This seemed to be what he was waiting for, because he slowly pushed a finger into me. I gripped his shoulders tighter, biting on my lip hard. He planted small kisses over my chest, hoping to help me relax. He didn't stop moving his finger, which helped. The pain started to dull and I managed to lie flat on the bed again. I kept breathing heavily through my nose, watching John. He pushed himself up a little more and kissed me deeply. I let my arms snake round his neck and hold him there. I felt helpless to do anything else.   
He worked his finger into me deeper, and before I could do anything else, I felt my back arch up and a moan escaped my lips. I heard him chuckle, obviously glad his intended action had resulted in a positive.   
"J…John!"  
"Relax, old boy. That's supposed to happen."  
"John!" I moaned out, rolling my hips down instinctively. The pain was almost non-existent now as he pushed against that spot again. I gripped his shoulders tighter as another wave of pleasure washed over me. I cried out loudly, not caring that Mrs Hudson would probably hear me. I shuddered as he pushed against it once more, then resumed working his finger. He slowly started adding another, which caused the pain to return again, but I didn't care anymore. I knew there would be some, but I knew the eventual outcome of this would be far better to feel than I had ever imagined. I moved a hand from around John's neck and reached down, taking hold of his member again. I stroked slowly, making him curl forwards and moan. He worked both of this fingers together, occasionally brushing against that spot inside me. Everytime he did, I moaned and arched my back slightly.  
After a few more minutes, I couldn't take it anymore. I took hold of his hair and pulled on it. He looked up at me with his eyebrows furrowed slightly.  
"John…please…"  
"What? Do you want me to stop?"  
I saw a slight smile in his eyes and groaned. He was toying with me!  
"John! I can't take it anymore…please!"  
"Please, what, Sherlock Holmes?"  
"…just take me…"  
"Alright."  
He worked his fingers for a few more moments, then carefully pulled them out. He spat on his palm and stroked himself, moving my hand away. I gripped the sheets by my waist and waited, watching him intently. He positioned himself at my entrance. I made sure I stayed as relaxed as possible, keeping my breathing steady. I still held tightly onto the sheets.  
"Ready?"  
"Yes!" My voice came out as more of a pleading moan than anything else. My cheeks flushed as he chuckled, then nodded.  
"Okay."  
He bit his lip as he started pushing his erection into me. I gasped, but remained calm. My knuckles turned white and I felt my toes curl again. John let out a low groan and closed his eyes, letting his head fall forwards slightly. I can't even begin to imagine how it must have felt for him, but to make him make those noises…it must've been something.  
"Sherlock…"  
I moaned my response, despite how small and feeble it sounded. Once he'd pushed his entire length into me, he stopped, panting heavily. No doubt giving my body time to adjust to him, but I didn't want to wait, not even for that. I moved my hips back and he looked up at me. As I awkwardly pushed down again we both cried out, and he understood. He gripped my hips and partially pulled out again before slowly pushing back in. I took in a deep, shuddering breath and rolled my hips down to meet John's. I let out a cry and rolled my head back, pushing it into the pillow. Whatever pain there was didn't register as he repeated those actions slowly several times. He prised one of my hands away from the sheets and gripped it tightly. I returned the pressure in equal measure.  
Once he was satisfied I was actually ready, he started thrusting faster. My moans grew louder, as did his, and he stroked me once again. Several times I called out his name, which just seemed to give him an incentive to thrust into me faster and indeed, deeper. I rolled my hips down the best I could, panting and moaning possibly louder than he was. I'd pictured this moment so many times before and I still couldn't believe it was actually happening. He was so forceful, so controlling. He sent wave upon wave of pleasure through me and it was all I could do stop myself yelling the place down.   
"Ahh!"  
"Nnnn!"  
I tensed around him and arched my back hard. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was building and I could barely control my body's reaction. I writhed beneath John, my nails digging into his knuckles. His hips bucked up into mine, sending a jolt through me. My muscles tightened and I cried out louder than I had done before as I released, my seed spilling out over my own hand, my stomach. He thrusted a few more times before he reached his climax, arching over me. I shuddered again, letting my eyes close.  
As our orgasms passed, we both relaxed. He settled himself over me, resting his head on my shoulder, his breath tickling my skin there. I gently stroked his head as I tried to get my breath back.  
We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. When he pulled out of me and flopped down onto the bed, I couldn't help but smile. He turned his head to look at me, then wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.  
I nuzzled up to his neck, taking in his scent. I heard a chuckle low in his throat and looked up at him.  
"John…"  
"Yes, Sherlock?"  
"You know how much I love you?"  
He nodded, and I smiled.  
"I love you, too."  
I smiled wider and got closer to him, rubbing his knuckles with my fingertips. I felt safe with his arm around me. Everything seemed to be working out the way I wanted it to.  
~~~  
When I woke up the next morning, I'll admit, I felt a little sore. I didn't open my eyes right away, wanting to hold on to the images of the night before for as long as possible. It wasn't hard to do considering they were still so vivid. It was only when I felt John get up that I actually admitted I was awake too. I stretched, my feet pulling the blanket down off my chest, then looked over to him. He was getting himself dressed, not looking at me. I knew something was wrong.  
"John?"  
He grunted a response. I sat up quickly and brushed some hair back from my face. "John, are you alright?"  
"I'm fine."  
I frowned, then reached out and grabbed his wrist, making him turn and face me.  
"John Watson. Answer me."  
He shook his head and sighed.  
"I have to go."  
I felt my heart plummet like a stone. After last night, after everything we said to each other, everything we did! He was still returning to Mary.   
"Why?"  
He shook his head, then carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. He took my hands in his and sighed.  
"Sherlock…I do love you-"  
"Then why are you leaving?"  
I hated the shake in my voice. I sounded like a child. I felt like a child.  
"I have to. Last night was…incredible…but we can't be together. You know we can't. I…I'm still in love with Mary."  
I pulled my hands away from him and brought my knees to my chest. After last night I'd felt loved, wanted and most of all, needed. Now I felt dirty and used.  
"I'm sorry, Holmes. I thought you'd understand."  
I looked away. A few moments passed, then he stood up and continued to get dressed. I hastily slapped the tears that rolled down my cheeks away and somehow found my voice.  
"I suppose I'll see you after the honeymoon then."  
"What? You won't come to the wedding?"  
"How can you expect me to now?!" I spat, anger bubbling up inside me. I'd never felt so hurt in my entire life. It was like someone had reached into my soul and torn it to pieces.  
"I want you to be there…it won't be the same without you."  
"I'll have to think about it. Pray I don't have a case going on at the same time."  
He swallowed hard, bowing his head.  
"It would mean a lot to me if you came, old boy."  
Part of me wanted to shout at him at the top of my lungs. Why couldn't he understand what he'd done? He'd given me everything, then ripped it all away from me again. Could he not see that his actions were wrong?  
The silence remained until he left. He didn't say anything to me, but I heard that slight rasp in his breathing that meant he was crying. Serve him right was all I could think. That's what he deserves for treating me like this. Like I was nothing more than a common whore.  
It took a while for the reality of the situation to sink in, but when it did it was like being back in the fighting ring. I threw myself down onto the pillows and sobbed. Gladstone came in to check on me, but I don't remember what time it was. Mrs Hudson even tried to get me out of bed, to get me motivated, but I wasn't having any of it. I just wanted to disappear.


	5. Chapter 5

_Whatever it takes._

"Are you entirely sure this is the right idea?"  
I merely nodded. I couldn't seem to be able to form words. Everything felt numb, surreal. I couldn't believe this day had actually arrived.  
"Oh, Sherlock…I really wish you wouldn't go."  
How could I make her understand that I had to go? I couldn't stay here, wallowing in my own misery and waiting for someone to come for me…someone that I knew never would.  
"There."  
Mrs Hudson smoothed down my collar then took a step back from me, clasping her hands together. Her eyes were slightly red and I knew she was holding back her own tears.  
My own eyes were dry…worryingly so. I hadn't been able to shed tears for a couple of days, which was probably a welcome change.  
"Please give Watson my apologies…I just couldn't bear to sit there and watch…"  
The woman shook her head, lowering it. Pity. That's what I was getting now. More pity.  
I sighed heavily and hurried out of the room.  
Back in my bedroom, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, slowly sinking to the floor. It didn't matter to me that I was wearing my best suit and shoes. It just wasn't important.  
I sat there, staring across the room, looking over at the bed and to the window. So many memories in these simple places. And in less than a few hours, it was all to end.

The hansom ride to the church was as uneventful as the morning had been. I gazed out the window, looking at where I was going, but not really seeing it. Buildings went by, then a few trees. I had absolutely no idea where I was when I arrived, but I stepped out of the cab anyway.  
I scanned the immediate area for any sign of John, but he wasn't there. I was one of the last few to step through the church doors, so of course I should have known he would already be up by the alter. He looked so handsome. Dressed as he always did, but there was a little more glamour to it. He had a single red rose on his breast and that beautiful smile on his face. It was then that I started crying. I deliberately seated myself in the back row so that nobody would notice me, but I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned. It was Lestrade.  
"Oh…good morning, Inspector."  
I hastily wiped my eyes, but he'd already seen.  
"You're not the only one that's shed a few of those, Mr Holmes."  
"Really?" I croaked. My throat felt like it was closing up.  
"I myself happened upon Dr Watson in the same state not half an hour ago."  
I looked up at the alter, straight into his eyes. The smile faded from his face and he suddenly looked very grave. I thought it the best thing to break the stare and looked back to Lestrade.  
"He was crying?"  
"Indeed…quite possibly over the very same reason you are."  
He raised both his eyebrows in my direction, and I suddenly felt very awkward. Had Lestrade figured it all out? Was he here to arrest us both?!  
"I can assure you, Inspector-"  
"I can assure you, Mr Holmes. Nobody will know from my mouth."  
And with that, along with a curt nod, he returned to wherever it was he'd come from, leaving me to sit there rather stunned.  
When I finally managed to look up again, Watson was in conversation with the Vicar. I sighed heavily and wiped my eyes again. That numb feeling washed over me again and I sat, staring at nothing. I kept trying to remind myself why I was here, but all I could come up with was that I had lost all of my senses. Sitting here, watching the love of my life wed someone else.

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there rebuffing any conversation that came my way and trying desperately hard not to look in John's direction. Just when things started to become unbearable, the music started.  
All heads turned, as did mine. I even found myself standing up like everybody else. Who was this princess that had just walked into the church? Surely that couldn't be Mary? She was dressed all in white, in a beautiful, yet modest, dress that trailed along behind her. There were no words to describe how I felt. It all seemed so…right, as though this is what should have happened all along. The voice in the back of my mind that was usually yelling at me had even been silenced. I swallowed, my throat suddenly very dry, and watched the woman as she walked down the aisle. I received a small smile from her, and I knew. I knew John had told her about our feelings. He'd likely left out a few key details, but still, she knew. I breathed in deeply.  
When everyone was seated and the hush had fallen across everyone, the Vicar began his speech. I slowly started sinking as he did so, the more he said those words the less and less I wanted to be there. My mind drifted back to my warm bed and Gladstone. I could be happily snuggled up the hound with a good book, but no. I was here, having my heartbroken again.  
I was quite content in my musings, when that one sentence was uttered;  
"If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."  
The silence that followed was deafening. It felt like there were a thousand needles stabbing at me all over. I looked up towards the altar and saw John and Mary staring at me. Both of them. There eyes were boring into mine, waiting. I knew what that look meant. They were both waiting for me to say something. To stand up, to object. And for a moment, I was going to. I was ready to stand up, to confess my undying love for the man stood before me…but it didn't come. Nothing. I didn't even open my mouth.  
John took in a deep shuddering breath and took both of Mary's hands in his. They smiled at each other. I bowed my head.  
It was over.

There were only a few of us remaining. There were more witnesses than actual friends or relations, seeing as both now married parties had very few of either. I was lingering around smoking a cigar, when I felt someone tug on my sleeve. I turned. It was John, beckoning me outside. Thankfully it was a beautiful day, so I had no objection to venturing outside. Once in the open air, and despite everything, John linked his arm with mine.  
"How are you?"  
I shrugged my reply, not really sure.  
"I'm glad you came."  
"Mrs Hudson sends her apologies."  
He chuckled lightly and nodded. I knew he hadn't expected her to come.  
"I am honestly glad you came, Holmes."  
I looked at him and smiled. He gently touched my cheek with his knuckles, then averted his gaze to the direction we were walking in.  
We stayed in silence for a few moments.  
"I felt it would be perverse for me to speak out of turn."  
"I'm so very glad you didn't."  
"I know."  
I smiled lightly. Something new was bubbling up inside me. Was I happy for John? I was still at a loss as to how I would get through each day knowing he would now never be mine, but this must be happiness welling up inside my chest.  
John gripped my arm tighter and stopped walking. I too came to a halt.  
"I love you, Sherlock. I always have, and I always will."  
He pulled me into a tight embrace, nuzzling into my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and did the same.  
"I love you too, John Watson."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alt. end :3

For what felt like an eternity, I sat there rebuffing any conversation that came my way and trying desperately hard not to look in John's direction. Just when things started to become unbearable, the music started.  
All heads turned, as did mine. I even found myself standing up like everybody else. Who was this princess that had just walked into the church? Surely that couldn't be Mary? She was dressed all in white, in a beautiful, yet modest, dress that trailed along behind her. There were no words to describe how I felt. It all seemed so…right, as though this is what should have happened all along. The voice in the back of my mind that was usually yelling at me had even been silenced. I swallowed, my throat suddenly very dry, and watched the woman as she walked down the aisle. I received a small smile from her, and I knew. I knew John had told her about our feelings. He'd likely left out a few key details, but still, she knew. I breathed in deeply.  
When everyone was seated and the hush had fallen across everyone, the Vicar began his speech. I slowly started sinking as he did so, the more he said those words the less and less I wanted to be there. My mind drifted back to my warm bed and Gladstone. I could be happily snuggled up the hound with a good book, but no. I was here, having my heartbroken again.  
I was quite content in my musings, when that one sentence was uttered;  
"If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

A silence fell. John looked down at his feet, and I could tell he was biting his bottom lip. Mary looked at him with a slightly concerned look on her face, then smiled at the Vicar. The latter was about to speak again, when John's voice rang out clearly.  
"Wait."  
My heart leapt up into my throat. I sat up straighter, staring, wondering what was going on. John had looked up and his eyes were locked on Mary's. Her expression was unreadable. Slowly, so slowly, she nodded, the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. John smiled back at her, then kissed her knuckles. Without looking left or right, he turned and walked out of the church. The few guests were turning their heads, glancing back at Mary, then whispering among themselves. Mary herself sighed heavily and lowered her head, but that smile had grown a little more.  
Before I knew what I was going, I was on my feet and heading for the door. John was outside, looking out across the churchyard, his hands buried in his pockets. I swallowed hard, stopping a few feet away from him. The only sounds were from the birds in the trees, the gently sway of the bushes in the breeze. I daren't break the silence, and it turned out I didn't have to.  
"Sherlock..."  
He turned himself to face me, smiling. My eyebrow rose and I stepped closer.  
"Yes?"  
"Do you understand?"  
Did I? Of course I did. I knew as soon as he dropped his gaze what was going to happen. I couldn't quite believe it.  
"Yes."  
He smiled more and nodded, then stepped closer to me.  
"I couldn't keep lying to myself. I love Mary, but...there's someone else. There always has been."  
"Oh?" My throat was dry suddenly as I stepped closer. We were inches apart now. I could see the dew drops still on the rose.  
He chuckled lightly, smiling more. "He's been my best friend and companion for many years. He means more to me than anything else in the world. I couldn't imagine my life without him."  
I chuckled now. "And what would you say to him if he was here?"  
"If he was here? Why, I'd tell him all of this. Tell him that my every waking moment is spent wondering about him, how he is, what he's doing. I'd tell him he's the most important thing in my life-"  
"Aside from Gladstone?"  
"Aside from Gladstone, indeed."  
We fell silent again, smiling at each other. The setting couldn't be any more perfect, but I caught myself worrying about what would be occurring in the church. Had Mary been able to explain the situation without letting to much slip? I sincerely hoped so. Perhaps she had gained the assistance of Lestrade and convinced everyone it was a mutual thing, although rather sudden.  
"Is there anything else you would tell him?"  
During the silence, John had looked around us again. My speaking brought him back to me and he smiled.  
"I would tell him how fortunate I am to know him. And how much I love him."  
Tears formed in my eyes again, but this time I didn't wipe them away. I let them build, then let them fall. He raised a hand and cupped my cheek, brushing a few tears away gently with this thumb. He then pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes, letting my arms wrap around him, gripping the back of his jacket.  
When we broke apart, he rested his lips against my forehead.  
"I think he's pleased to hear these things."  
We both chuckled and he kissed my forehead. I listened to the sounds of the birds, the trees, the carriages going by on the road up ahead. Everything sounded so much clearer than it had before the ceremony started. Things looked brighter, more cheerful. The warmth from the sun combined with the heat coming from John made me feel so at peace.  
I sighed. "I love you so much...sitting in there...I could feel my heart breaking."  
"I'm glad I came to my senses before it was too late. I'd never have forgiven myself if I'd gone through with that."  
I pulled my head back and looked up at him.  
"But...what about all the things you told me before?"  
He chewed his bottom lip again, obviously trying to find the words.  
"I was trying to deny my feelings. I'll never do that again."  
I smiled and kissed him again. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and rested against my shoulder.  
"I will never leave you, Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
